


A Grinch No Longer

by Mangoyogurt



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:25:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangoyogurt/pseuds/Mangoyogurt
Summary: This year, you vowed to be a Grinch no longer. Thankfully, a new neighbor is more than happy to help in that quest.





	1. All I Want For Christmas...

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun and short little fic in honor of the holiday spirit...or lack thereof ;)

While you’d like to think of yourself as an adequately ordinary woman, there was one month in year that challenged the belief. Sure, from any outside perspective you were cheerfully compliant in whatever merry, jingle, jolly, cheerful... _ugh_.

Something must have short circuited in your brain during childhood, because you just didn’t get _it_. “It” being whatever holiday cheer the world insisted you participate in every December. The moment Thanksgiving passed, you immediately braced yourself for the onslaught of forced merriment and wishing others joy. Even those you’d typically detest eleven months out of the year. Like Susan from accounting, for example.

And while Rose nurses her third or fourth peppermint white mocha of the day, you cling onto a cup of black coffee. No sugar or milk, of course. Sugar was for quitters.

When Finn breaks out the Christmas jingles during your carpool to work, you break out the headphones. Because you were pretty sure that even Wham! would consider listening to _Last Christmas_ seven times in row certified torture.

Poe, your neighbor, bless his heart. He thought he was being jolly by insisting on decorating the hallway between your apartments. That only lead to you grimacing every time various pieces of faux snow and glitter clung to your snow boots when they were inevitably tracked into your home.

But this year would be different, you told yourself. This would be the last year any of your friends would implore you to “lighten up”. You’d be the holly jolliest of them all, and Poe could shove it. Preferably while choking on a gingerbread man. Or a candy cane. Or both. You weren’t picky. 

So two trips to Target later, you were ready to turn your place into a winter wonderland. 

And if anybody dared to accuse you of being a Grinch, you’d point to your decked out Christmas tree and tell them to fa-la-la-la-uck off. 

After shimmying into an oversized Christmas sweater that hit mid-thigh, you stared down the matching pajama bottoms in distaste. Grimacing at the holiday motif, you decided to opt for just underwear and long wool thigh highs. Surely the sweater was festive enough without having to wear reindeer print head-to-toe? You did have standards, after all.

Next, you set the stereo to blast _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ (Mariah’s version, _of course_ ), and pulled on a headband with little antlers and bells sewn into the felt. 

That’s right, Santa. Suck it. 

The only thing you weren’t anticipating was just how lonely the holidays could be. It seemed as if each activity only served to shed light on how woefully single you were. Two dozen sugar cookies doesn’t sound so appetizing when you’re only feeding one. 

And goddamnit why did you have to get such a huge tree? Teetering on the tips of your toes, you were just within reach of setting the star atop when the sound of muffled laughter caused you to scream and topple over. 

Warm hands surrounded your narrow waist and easily plucked you into the air as if you weighed nothing. Once your feet hit the ground, you whirled around to meet the softest brown eyes you’d ever seen on a man. Despite a tender face though, his body was built like a champion. Even through his burgundy sweater, you could tell what lay beneath - nothing but sinew and raw strength. 

Deep chocolate colored hair parted in waves to frame a face unlike any you’d seen...quite literally. That thought suddenly alerted you to the fact that a stranger was standing in your living room with his hands around your waist. 

You should be scared, but your mind traitorously wondered where else those large paws could make themselves useful. 

Instead of doing something reasonable like call for help, or extract yourself from his grip, you instead let out a breathy, “Hi, can I help you?”

Did you just greet an intruder? Great. Now the article on your inevitable death is going to read “single woman welcomed axe murderer into home because he was handsome and she was lonely. Detectives are unsurprised at her subsequent death and dismemberment.”

Poe suddenly appeared at the front door and shouted, “Yeah, you guys can stop eye-fucking each other and help me with the groceries.”

The mysterious intruder suddenly dropped his hands and stepped back just as Poe unceremoniously dumped a few bags onto the counter. He was always one for dramatics - it wasn’t like the kitchen was very far from the front door in a studio apartment. 

“Poe! I gave you a key for emergencies only!” You admonished as the man made himself right at home. Slowly opening and closing cupboards while putting away various things, Poe nonchalantly retorted, “I thought your 911 text regarding running out of flour constituted as an emergency. I believe you said something about dying if you didn’t finish these cookies?” 

Your cheeks reddened at the memory as the stranger gave you a small smirk. Huffing in annoyance, you turned away from Poe and opted to ignore the men as you went back to decorating the tree. Unsatisfied that you were giving him the cold shoulder, Poe continued, “By the way, you should probably put some pants on. Although, I’m sure that ol’ Benny boy here probably has no complaints.”

“Jesus Poe,” Ben sighed. Rubbing his hands against his thighs, he then awkwardly extended a hand as you turned around to shoot Poe a glare. “Hi, I’m Ben. I just moved into Poe’s place across the way.” 

Poe piped up, “Yeah. Ben’s going to take over my lease when I move in with Finn after the wedding. We go way back. I’ve known Ben since we were kids. Oh, and you’re still half-naked from the waist down.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, and quickly scampered to the bedroom to put on some pants. Standing in front of you closet, you began a mental debate. Would it be too obvious to slip into something nicer? Poe was there though - and you knew that he’d notice the abrupt change and use it as ammo for more teasing.

Slipping off the thigh-high socks, you pulled on a pair of black leggings in their place. Once you were decent, you made your way out to the living room where Poe was helping himself to some apple cider from your fridge. Ben was shyly folding down paper bags as Poe finished off the jug and tossed it into recycling. The shorter man gave his friend a clap on the back before heading towards the door. “I need to pick Finn up from the mall. There better be cookies when we’re back!” He called over his shoulder. Just before the front door clicked shut, you heard him chortle, “Play nice, kids!” 

Turning to take a look at the tall drink of water now awkwardly leaning against your kitchen island, you walked over and stopped in front of him. Playfully bouncing on the balls of your feet, you gave him a soft smile and asked, “Want to help with dessert?” 

Ben ruffled his hair and looked down into your eyes with a coy grin. 

“Yeah, dessert sounds good.”


	2. ...Is Some Peace and Quiet

You learned that Benjamin Solo was an architect. The six-foot-two behemoth also played in an adult soccer league every weekend, enjoyed practicing calligraphy, and was allergic to almonds. The perfect specimen of a man enjoyed volunteering at the animal shelter (even when the holidays were over), loved his mother, and was most importantly - single. 

Alas, perfection doesn’t exist in the world though. Because you also learned that the man really, really, really, _really_ fucking loved Christmas. 

That much you could tell from the way his toe would tap along to your Christmas Spotify playlist. Or how excited he was to finish decorating the tree with you. The man didn’t even complain at the ridiculous task of icing four dozen gingerbread men, and even suggested making different sweater designs for each one. 

Even you had to stifle an eye-roll when he insisted on holding some of the finished treats up by the tree for a cute photograph. 

But the man was fucking _hot_. Like, fuck me into the new year and the year after that until the sun burned up and the world collapsed, hot. So you, in your infinite wisdom, began to really ham it up for the man. 

After all, someone who loved Christmas _this_ much would never be with someone like you. 

At least you’d have some cute pictures for Instagram. You know, for when the time comes that you have to prove you’re an actual real human and not some robot who hates happiness. 

“Uhm, could you help me take a photo?” You nervously sat cross-legged on the floor by the tree while attempting to balance some cookies and a mug for a picture. Ben gave you a lopsided grin ( _oh God, that adorable smile of his_ ), and bounded over to where you were. Sinking down to his knees, he politely took your phone and patiently waited for you to pose for the picture. 

Finishing up a few snaps, he shyly ventured, “Hey, why don’t we take a picture together? My, uh, mom was worried that I wouldn’t decorate this year...because of the move...and I think she’d like to see the tree I helped create?” 

You tried to control your eager nods so that it didn’t look like your trying to shake your head off of your neck. Ben flashed you another grin and set his phone on the couch facing the tree. Setting the self-timer, he leaned the device against a pillow and quickly scooted backwards to sit next to you. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and you felt yourself instinctively lean in against his body. Laying against his chest, you almost gasped as he rested his head against the top of your own, really pulling you in tight against his body. Your thighs pressed against each other, and just before the timer went off you remembered to smile. 

Almost as quickly as he had tugged you against his chest, the man released you with pink tinged from his ears down to his neck. Clearing his throat, he quickly leapt up and reached for his phone. 

“I’ll, uh, text it to you. What’s your number?” 

You gave him your digits, and waited for the incoming image. Even you were taken aback by the photo. A twinkling tree sparkled, while your two large living room windows blurred with falling snow in the background. The two of you looked as if you had been caught snuggling underneath the fir with plates of cookies and milk. 

The photo was even complete with your little antler headband and Christmas sweater. Ben even looked like he dressed for the part in a burgundy sweater. Classy, but still Christmas-ish. 

He reached down to help you up, and held your breath as one large paw wrapped around your delicate palm. Tugging you up onto your feet, you were standing just a hair away from the man. Your red cheeks were tilted upwards as the man looked down towards you - still holding onto your hand. 

You could have sworn that the man leaned forward ever so slightly. You also could have sworn that his grip on your hand tightened just for a split second. But you’d never know. Because in that moment the front door flew open unannounced for the second time that day, and Ben dropped your arm like it had caught on fire. 

“Goddamn, did Christmas explode in here?” Finn chortled as he stepped into the room. Poe was right behind as he shoved past his boyfriend to make a beeline for the connecting open kitchen. Pumping a fist into the air, he ripped off the head of one of your gingerbread men without even a “hello”. 

Feeling panic set in, you nervously chuckled, “Oh, you know me, Finn! I just can’t resist during the holidays. It _is_ the most wonderful time time of year!” Fingers nervously dancing against one another, you attempted to send silent pleads towards your friend. 

Finn’s eyes narrowed and his lips set in a thin line as he took in your words. This was the woman who gave coal during Secret Santa exchanges in an attempt to stop her friends from asking her to join in the first place. Actual, literal, honest-to-God _coal_.

Nodding in slight confusion, Finn replied, “Yeah...you’re just a regular ol’ missus Clause.”

Letting out a breath of relief, you smiled towards your friends. “I wouldn’t have finished everything if it wasn’t for Ben though!”

The aforementioned man stepped up to your side and stiffly rubbed a hand against his neck. “I couldn’t resist. It’s my favorite holiday as well. How could I turn down a batch of gingerbread men?” 

It was Poe’s turn to narrow his eyes in suspicion. Slowly setting down a half eaten cookie, he curiously addressed you. “Hey, weren’t you supposed to do gingerbread houses, too?”

“Oh, yeah! Uhm, I wanted to do something custom this year. Because, you know, where’s the Christmas spirit in buying a kit?” 

Ben immediately turned towards you and gushed, “Wow, you’re incredible! I’d love to help if you want. My family has an amazing tradition of customizing a house for each member. It’s really special to us.” 

You eagerly nodded and plastered on the best fake smile you could. 

Fuck you, Poe. 

Ben shot you a grin in response. You would have been happy to spend more time with the hunk if it wasn’t for the fact that not only did you actually hate baking, but you’d never even made a gingerbread house before. 

Poe tilted his head to the side with a grin one could loosely describe as evil. “Hey, I have an idea! Finn and I are going ice-skating by that big tree downtown. Maybe you two should join us. There’s a Christmas market, too.”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, yeah. I’ve been meaning to visit all season and haven’t had the time yet,” you squealed in response.

Finn shot Poe a look, and then turned towards you in confusion. The Christmas market was the _last_ place you’d be caught dead in. You even extended your commute by twenty minutes just to avoid walking through the damn thing, opting to walk around the entire square. 

Poe clapped his hands together and sang, “Perfect! It’s a date! I’ll text you later tonight. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Finn and I need to get Ben settled into the apartment.” 

The couple moved to exit while Ben turned towards your direction. Lifting up onto your toes, you wrapped an arm around his back for a quick hug. You jokingly teased, “Hey, don’t forget to wear your Christmas sweater tomorrow. We can match!” 

Ben agreed, almost a bit too quickly, and you internally groaned. Of course he would have a Christmas sweater. Now you’d have to wear your own goddamn atrocity for another day. 

The man stepped away with a wave, and as soon as the front door shut he groaned at Poe’s shit eating grin.

“Well, well, well. If I remember correctly, Benjamin Solo _hates_ Christmas. I wonder what melted the poor bastard’s heart?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Poe. Where’s your Christmas sweater. I need to borrow it tomorrow.”


	3. Mister and Missus Grinch

Did Hallmark host some sort of class on “Christmas Spirit”, because you felt like the learning curve on being jolly was really fucking steep. Sure, ice skating rinks were not necessarily exclusive to the holiday season, but you were starting to feel personally attacked by the whole charade.

Especially since you really didn’t need a soundtrack accompanying your ass hitting the ice over and over in a lame attempt to skate. 

Finally admitting defeat, you clutched onto the edge of the rink in a huff. To your left Poe and Finn flew past hand-in-hand. Lapping you for the fourth time, the two men laughed in unison while Finn gave Poe a little twirl in playful joy. They seemed to be lost in their own blissful world of romance. 

Jackasses.

Aimlessly scratching at the uncomfortable polyester of your sweater, you wondered if you looked as miserable as you felt. You were wearing the exact type of thing that would cause your eyes to roll any other day. Little lights rapidly blinked between white pom-poms littered across your chest in an attempt to look like fun three-dimensional ornaments over a knit Christmas tree design. 

Part of you suspected that the look was less “cute and chipper”, and more “lonely crazy cat lady”.

Sighing, you looked up just in time as Ben Solo stepped onto the ice. The man glanced around the rink before catching your eye. Flashing you a million-watt smile, he gracefully began to glide in your direction. 

Ugh, of course the poster boy for Christmas would be good at ice skating, wouldn’t he? While lacing up your skates, he had happily chatted about winters spent at his parents’ cabin up north, and how much he loved winter sports. Apparently they did things like host snowman building contests, made a traditional roast recipe passed down from his grandmother’s grandmother...blah, blah, blah something about family and togetherness and joy and _blegh_.

Great. 

So if everything went according to plan and the architect was somehow hoodwinked into dating you, you’d have the privilege of keeping this charade up for...the rest of your life? What was a month out of twelve, anyways? God, you hoped sex with an Adonis would be worth the lie.

Speaking of gods, Ben Solo gracefully came to a stop in front of you. Your eyes raked up and down his form, and you choked out, “I love your sweater!” The garment itself looked innocuous. Just a chimney with an upside-down Santa stuck inside of it with his feet hanging out. It was cute, funny, and innocent. 

The way it stretched across Ben’s broad chest was far from innocent though. In fact, it was downright vulgar. The entire thing looked to be a size too small, but you certainly weren’t about to start complaining. Who knew that architects were built like linebackers these days? 

He tugged on the hem and gave you a sheepish smile. “Oh, this old thing! I guess I’ve outgrown it a bit, but I can’t bring myself to get a new one. It’s too sentimental.” 

Outgrown it _a bit_? That’s putting it lightly. You silently thought that it would probably fit Poe better, but decided against sharing that tidbit about his “sentimental sweater”. Instead, you nodded and pretended that you totally understood feeling sentimental about a Christmas sweater. 

“Anyways, have you skated before? You look a little nervous,” Ben continued. 

Deciding that you already up to your chin in lies regarding the holidays, you opted for the truth. Shaking your head from side to side you replied, “No, I haven’t. I’ve always wanted to take lessons, but my mother thought skating was too dangerous.” 

Ben shot you one of his famous lopsided grins and leaned forward. Bracing one arm along the wall near yours, he murmured, “You need a teacher.” 

He then moved around your body and gently placed both hands at your hips. Instinctively reaching down to clutch onto his wrists, you felt Ben carefully push you away from the wall and towards the center of the rink. The two of you slid in tandem, with Ben pushing as you awkwardly shuffled forward. Every once in a while he’d whisper words of encouragement, and soon you were able to move on your own. 

Even then, he still boldly held onto one of your hands as the both of you skated around in circles. Looking up at his face, you smiled and he shot you a little wink. 

Gulit and shame slowly crept up as you continued to chat during the skate. You were developing a legitimate crush on the man. His startling dark sense of humor, passion for his work, and surprisingly playful nature came together in a ridiculously good looking vessel. Feeling rather resigned to a fate of lying for the rest of your life, you decided to find some other way to make up for the deception. Maybe doing a few extra loads of laundry in your make-believe marriage could offset a lifetime of lies?

Before you could really grapple with your feelings, Poe and Finn caught up. Your hand slipped out of Ben’s as Poe goosed you in the waist. Bursting out into giggles, you tried to skate away to no avail. Tripping on the ice, you stuttered for a moment before Ben caught you mid-fall. For the second time his arms were wrapped around your middle, and you secretly thought that you could get used to the feeling. 

Just then, Jingle Bell Rock came on and you squeed, “Oh my God, I love this song!” 

Ben gently loosened his grip and cheesed, “Me too!” You playfully bobbed along to the music, and Ben let out of deep chuckle as his eyes crinkled up in joy. As the song moved on, Finn began to chat with Ben, and Poe sidled up to you. 

The man leaned into your shoulder and whispered, “Alright, Rudolph. You should try toning it down a bit. You’re fake Christmas spirit is giving me goosebumps.” Before you could hiss something insulting in return, he pinched your hip and quickly skated off with his boyfriend in tow. 

If you thought ice-skating was hard enough, the Christmas market was a true test of patience. Glaring over the rim of a mug of gluhwein, you watched as the trio of men compared Christmas ornaments from a rather festive stall. 

There was no way an Oscar nomination _wouldn’t_ be headed you way. Any day now, JJ Abrams was going to call you for a lead role in his next action film. You were sure of it. 

Not only that, but you wondered if Satan was hiring because Poe was having way too much fun stirring the pot. 

It started innocently enough, with Poe explaining to Ben about how much you just adored Christmas flavors. Suspiciously nodding alone, you were cornered into stating your undying love for peppermint everything. 

Even though you were sure that peppermint was just an excuse for toothpaste eaters to do so in public without shame.

Regardless of your true sentiment, Poe decided to be a gentleman and buy you a five pound bag of peppermint bark. Tossing an arm around your shoulders he gleefully implored you not to be shy.

“Go on! I know how much you love chocolate. Dig in!” 

And that’s how you managed to somehow shovel three pounds of chocolate into your gullet. Each pound served as a step closer to you plotting the death of your best friend. 

Then, you arrived to Santa’s village. Clapping his hands in joy, Poe cheered, “Oh, Ben! Isn’t it a family tradition for you to take photos with Santa? Since you’re not going home this year, I’m sure that your mom would just _love_ a photo of you and your new friend with Santa?” 

Right. Because two grown adults really had any business sitting in the lap of a third grown adult. 

Still, you piled on some fake enthusiasm, and next thing you knew the two of your were perched on either leg of a very disgruntled looking part-time employee. As soon as the image was printed out, Poe snatched it and tucked the glossy paper away. He claimed that he was keeping it safe to e-mail to Ben’s mother later. 

You were 150% sure that he was going to make the image his default photo on Facebook just to be a little shit. 

Mulling over whether or not you should demote Poe from “best friend” to “acquaintance”, you silently watched as Ben paid for an ornament before everyone headed back towards your direction. While Finn and Poe were distracted by a vendor selling knit stockings, Ben shyly stepped up to you. Fumbling with a brown paper bag he looked nervous for a moment. 

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I saw how much your tree meant to you...I thought that you might like this...”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a beautiful crystal ornament. Shaped like an ice skate, it sparkled against the setting sun. You tentatively reached out and held the glass in your hand as if it would shatter at any moment. 

Ben continued, “I had a lot of fun with you today. Since it was your first time out on the ice...I thought this would be a nice way to remember the moment.” 

Oh.

Maybe...maybe Christmas was onto something. Because suddenly Benjamin Solo’s _sentiment_ made a world of difference. 

“Thank you, Ben. It’s beautiful.” 

Your fingers folded over the slick surface, and you smiled up at the man. Stepping closer to your body, he nervously wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Oh, look! Mistletoe!” Poe suddenly screeched as he dangled a limp piece of _something_ over your heads. Ben’s cheeks flushed and you quietly promoted Poe back to “best friend” status. You shifted forward and Ben took the cue as he leaned downwards to capture your lips in a soft kiss. 

Oh God. It’s a Christmas miracle. Ben Solo’s lips could change lives. Because you were ready. You were ready for whatever Christmas hoop or hurdle you’d have to jump through just to have him. 

Ben ended up driving you home while firmly clutching onto your hand. He tittered excitedly about finally finding someone he could share the holidays with. Pulling into the parking spot, he asked you on an “official” date to watch The Nutcracker. 

Walking up to the apartment, he asked if you wanted to be his date to his office Christmas party. 

Standing inside of your home, he held your hands and gushed about how cute you looked in your sweater. 

He was just about to lean in for another kiss when you finally lost it. Pushing him away from you, your heart clenched as he looked on in confusion and hurt. Pawing at the back of his neck, Ben rushed, “It’s my fault, isn’t it? I’m sorry for coming on too hard. I just haven’t felt this way about someone in...” 

“Stop. Stop it, Ben.” 

He frowned and clenched his fists in anticipation for whatever you were about to say. Running a palm along your face, you continued, “It’s not you. It’s just...look. I like you. As in I like you so much that I’d do something totally insane for your attention. And it’s scary and weird, and I really want to see where this goes, but...oh God, you’re going to think I’m a total bitch...”

Ben tentatively reached out to hold one of your hands and murmured, “I hardly think that I could ever feel that way about you. Unless you already have a secret boyfriend or something?”

“No, it’s not that. But...I’m a fucking liar, okay? A total fraud. I...I’m so sorry, Ben. I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. It just sort of happened, you know? It was supposed to just be an experiment, and you walked into my life in the middle of it and I just..,”

“I don’t understand...what did you lie about?” 

“Ben...I...I hate Christmas. I really, really, really fucking hate Christmas. I’m so sorry for leading you on. And if you still want to see where this goes, I swear to God I’ll try to like it. I...”

His eyes widened in shock as he took in your words. Sound slowly died on your lips as waited for him to respond. Suddenly, the man surged forward and captured your lips with his own. Gripping the back of your neck he pulled you in for a searing kiss as you gasped into his mouth.

Pulling back, Ben rested his forehead against your own. Softly chuckling he replied, “Oh my God. I didn’t think that you could be any more perfect, and yet, here you are.”

“What?”

Ben stepped back and laughed, “I fucking _hate_ Christmas too. I walked into your apartment and it was like Disneyland fucking exploded, so I just assumed that you were nuts about the holiday. You looked so cute in those antlers and the sweater, and...oh God.”

You stared at the man with wide eyes and burst into laughter. He wrapped you up in his arms and you giggled into his kisses, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Grinch.”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Grinch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas ya'll <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This story isn't meant to be very long. Just something fun and silly that was inspired during my commute to work while blasting Christmas songs :)


End file.
